Year of Liveability

The fried tomato mantra

Who'd have thought that the smell of frying tomatoes could be so sweet?

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Two months of patchy sleep meant that decent food was the furthest from my mind.  There were days when I lived on frozen chicken pie microwaved fresh out of the box and dehydrated chicken noodle soup drowned in hot water fresh out of the kettle.

Last night, with the worst of the hacking cough behind me and finally feeling alive again, I cleaned out the fridge.  The tomatoes I bought in hope a week or so ago were now over-ripe but still edible.  Into the frying pan with a little oil.

I marvelled at the sweet scent that pervaded my home for hours after.  It was a signal, a sign post pointing towards a fresh start.

Today, I will toast up some bread, heat up some sardines with the tomato/herb mixture …

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Thankfully, this bout of sleep deprivation occurred while I’m looking at life this year through a prism of Liveability.  As a result, my head was already in the right space to work out how to cope.  It was easy to ask “What needs to change?” to ensure that I didn’t completely stuff up, be it at work, on the road, paying bills etc.

Thankfully, the first hiccup, the one that tells you you’re not at your best, was minor.  I clicked on the wrong email address in the contact list and sent the message to wrong person.  Then I did it again.

My first response was to tackle Pace.  Clearly, I needed to slow things down and take time to triple and quadruple check before any action.

Then I decided to make a mantra of it.  I pondered my lot and came up with:

Precision.  Pace.  Potentiality.

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Precision was designed to tackle accuracy and attention to detail, but I also found it helping around the house.  Whenever I’d spy something out of place, the “Tradition” song from Fiddler on the Roof would burst forth with a slight change of wording.

Pace turned out to be not just slowing down but also speeding up.  When the feet drag and enthusiasm wanes, Pace is accompanied by a triple clap of the hands – loud and sharp.

Potentiality was just a reminder that even when sleep deprived there are assorted end goals populating each and every day.

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Time to pop down the street and buy that bread. There’s a potential open sandwich waiting to be devoured.

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